The New York City Angels
by Endgame Scribe
Summary: They'd always thought Idris was home. Every Shadowhunter did. Only as they watched their home destroyed in front of them did they realize that they'd been home all along. T for language mostly.
1. 1

**Title:** The New York City Angels

**Summary:** They'd always thought Idris was home. Every Shadowhunter did. Only as they watched their home destroyed in front of them did they realize that they'd been home all along. T for language mostly.

**Notes: **I'm a little nervous about writing for this fandom, because I really want to do it justice. So if you catch anything, please let me know. I hope you guys like it! Btw, I edited it - line breaks represent POV changes - thanks to HidingDani for that suggestion!

**Disclaimer: As much as I'd love to, I do not own the Mortal Instruments series. I'm only missing a few of the ingredients to the Polyjuice potion, but for now, I do not own. Sad face.**

Alec Lightwood stumbled into his bedroom in the Institute, falling back onto the bed. He was exhausted but unhurt, despite the night's close calls. After applying an _iratze_ for Jace's broken arm and being shooed away by Isabelle, he'd realized his crushing exhaustion. The Du'sien demons they'd been after had put up a chase and a fight, but they had dispatched most of them easily. One had gotten away, though, and their relentless search of the surrounding area had turned up nothing.

He was splattered with ichor in the same way Clary was splattered with paint earlier. She wasn't there to get in the way because of Izzy; Jace had asked her to get Simon to keep Clary out of it, to keep her safe.

Alec had disagreed. Even though he wasn't exactly fond of the redhead, he would've welcomed another Shadowhunter to help them out.

Because that's what she was: a Shadowhunter. Jace would have to come to terms with it, realize that she would have to have proper training and go with them, get more experience in fighting demons. It was part of her life now.

But they all let Jace have his way. They saw how pissed he got when it was brought up, and let it go. Maryse and Jocelyn hadn't brought it up, but once they did, it wouldn't be avoidable anymore.

He thought about getting up, but it seemed like too much work.

On the other hand, he'd feel a lot better if he got off of the Institute's uncomfortable mattress.

His sore muscles got the better of him, and he went to the shower, washing away the ichor and sweat that mixed together in his hair and on his skin. The hot water rushed over his skin, and it almost seemed like it was washing away the dirt and the pain.

He came out and dressed in one of his black jeans and faded sweaters. No matter how much he loved Magnus, his boyfriend, his clothing choices wouldn't start changing just yet.

Alec grabbed his phone off the bed, not bothering to pay any attention to his wet hair or the Sensor on his dresser that was clicking and beeping faintly.

* * *

Isabelle Lightwood brushed her wet hair back out of her face. Her mother, Maryse, had been livid when she heard that there was a group of demons lying in wait for them instead of the one that was reported. Isabelle knew that her mother had assumed it wasn't alone, but she understood. She was shocked when she saw the horde of Du'sien demons herself, hadn't expected there to be so many.

Of course, it didn't help that it was the anniversary of Max's death.

Isabelle hated that it was called that: an anniversary. It sounded too happy for what they were remembering.

There was knock on her door, and when she called, "Who's there?" a familiar voice answered, "It's Clary."

"Clary!" Isabelle jumped up as the door opened.

She stood in the doorway, her bright red curls escaping the braid that tried to restrict them. Isabelle rushed over to her friend and hugged her, accidentally hitting her on the back with the hairbrush.

"Izzy," Clary gasped, "you're choking me."

Isabelle pulled back, grinning. "It's great to see you! What were you up to today?"

Clary didn't smile. "I got Simon to tell me about it, Izz. I can't believe you guys still won't let me come with you. I'm a Shadowhunter, too, and I haven't even been trained. I want to help you guys out. Why won't you let me?"

Isabelle turned back towards her mirror and continued brushing her hair, the pleasant surprise of Clary's visit gone. "Jace is worried you'll get hurt."

"Screw Jace! This isn't about him, and you all know it! Why do you keep letting him have his way?"

"Because we see how he gets when you bring it up. He's terrified, Clary. I've never seen him like this." Isabelle stopped herself from saying anything else, trying to calm herself down. She had started to viciously attack the tangles in her hair instead of taking it out on anything else.

She heard Clary come to stand next to her, and she saw the two of them standing side by side in the mirror. They were polar opposites, and yet they'd become closer than sisters.

"I'm sorry, Isabelle. I just..."

Isabelle hugged her, saying, "I know, Clary. For right now, just let him have his way."

* * *

Simon couldn't keep secrets. Everyone he met knew about that.

So he was still surprised that he could lie so easily to his mom lately. Whether it was part of being a vampire, or just out of needing to keep her in the dark about it, he was thankful.

But Clary could still see right through him, just like she always could.

He hadn't wanted to tell her. Isabelle had begged him to keep her away from the Institute while the rest of them went out, and he'd only agreed because he didn't want her to be mad at him.

He didn't like it. He thought Clary should learn how to be a Shadowhunter, if only to protect herself better. But whenever the others got a call about demonic activity, he was always Clary's babysitter. _Because she wasn't trained properly,_ they told him.

Fuck that. It was because of Jace.

Jace was selfish, and despite the times he'd saved Simon's life, and vice versa,  
Simon still didn't care for the blond boy.

So he had to tell Clary.

He knew Isabelle would be mad, but it wasn't a secret he could keep.

* * *

Magnus ducked into the bathroom one last time to check his hair, making a mental note to get better hair gel next time. It looked terrible, but he wasn't going to take a chance and use magic with his own hair. He wasn't stupid, and fixing it _yet again _would take too long. He'd settled with washing and straightening it and leaving it the way it was. Besides, he had more important things to attend to.

Like an adorable Shadowhunter who didn't realize that he didn't have to use perfect grammar, spelling, and punctuation in every text he sent. By the Angel, he was just too goddamn cute.

Magnus smiled as his phone buzzed again. He opened the message and read:

Alec: _Exactly. There was an entire horde of Du'sien demons waiting for us when we thought there would only be a few._

Magnus sighed, typing back:

Magnus: _You're not hurt, are you?_

Alec: _No, thank goodness. Jace broke his arm, but it was nothing once we applied an iratze._

Magnus: _Figures Blondie would get hurt._

Alec: _He killed most of them._

Magnus: _What's your point?_

Alec: _Without him, we'd have been in trouble. He's lucky he didn't get hurt any worse._

Magnus: _Yeah, whatever. Go Jace. Ugh, let's change the subject, I'm getting sick just thinking about him._

Alec: _Alright. How was your day?_

Magnus: _Boring. All my clients cancelled, and I kept wishing you were here. Can you come over now? ;)_

Alec: _I'm not sure. Mom wanted to talk to us, especially because of what today is._

Magnus: _Oh, that's right. I'm sorry, I didn't think_.

Alec:_ It's okay. She's been really upset lately, probably because it's been a year today, but it's like no time has passed at all. Nothing's changed._

Magnus: _Okay, you need some cheering up. Can I at least come over there? We'll go grab lunch or something._

Alec: _Okay, sure._

Magnus grinned, and was striding over to the door of his apartment, when someone buzzed to be let in.

_Damn it!_

He pressed the speaker button, calling, "WHATEVER YOU NEED, IT BETTER BE GODDAMN IMPORTANT."

A deep voice responded, "It is."

Magnus glared at the door, but let the person up. He was the High Warlock of Brooklyn after all. It was his job to be on call, no matter how inconvenient it was.

Magnus: _Someone thinks they're more important than you, so I have to go do my job instead of coming over immediately. :(_

Alec: _That's alright. We'll still be here. I'll spend some time with Mom. I'm sure she'll appreciate it._

Magnus: _You are so sweet. I'll see you later. Love you. :*_

Alec: _What does that face mean?_

Magnus: _lol, I'll explain later._

Alec: _?_

Magnus's laugh was cut off as someone knocked on his door. He sighed, putting away his phone, and called out, "Enter."

* * *

Jace winced as he pulled on a new t-shirt. His arm was healed but still sore, the reminder of the day still there. He sighed. There was only so much an _iratze_ could do.

He made his way down the hall and as he passed Isabelle's room heard a familiar voice. The voice of a certain redhead that he thought had been with the vampire.

_Shit._

He came inside to the two girls talking, but their conversation ceased with his appearance. "Clary," he said. She turned to look at him, and he saw that she wasn't exactly happy.

Clary opened her mouth to say something but Isabelle cut her off. "Doesn't Mom want to see us?"

"Yeah, she does. C'mon, let's go," he responded, and when Clary wasn't looking he mouthed _Thank you_ at Isabelle, who just rolled her eyes.

They opened the door of the library and found Maryse who was staring out the window. She started at the sound of the door closing behind them and whipped around, hand to her chest. "Oh, Jace, Clary, Isabelle, it's you." Her voice sounded different, like she had a cold. She seemed dazed, like she was in a dream rather than real life. She looked around. "Where are Robert and Alec?"

"Alec's coming, Mom. Didn't Dad go to get some Chinese food?"

Maryse nodded. "Of course he did. Thank you, Isabelle." It wasn't just the way she acted that was different, though. She was dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt instead of one of the suits she wore. Even when she wore jeans, she made sure to wear sweaters that looked more formal than comfortable. So seeing her like this was a shock to Jace and Isabelle.

"How are you, Mom?" Isabelle asked tentatively.

"Oh, I'm okay. Jace, could you go find some tissues? And Alec?" Jace nodded and walked back to the door as Alec opened it to come in. He stepped back as Jace passed by and went over to sit by his mother.

* * *

"Hello, mother," Alec greeted her, and nodded at Isabelle and Clary.

"Alec, there you are," Maryse murmered, not looking away from the window. "How are you, dear?"

"I'm fine."

Maryse muttered under her breath, "Good, good," as if she wasn't conscious that she was saying it out loud.

Alec looked at his sister and they exchanged puzzled looks. Their mother was usually sharp and to the point, focused. So they were completely unfamiliar with the detached woman sitting beside them.

They sat there for a few more minutes of silence until Jace burst through the doors, a box of tissues in his hand and a Sensor going off in his hands.

Everyone rose as Jace told them, "Demons. They're outside. All over. They're waiting out there."

Alec led the race to the window on the opposite wall and saw what Jace meant. Demons of all kinds littered the space around the Institute – there must have been at least fifty, probably more. His heart sank as the realization hit him.

They were trapped and outnumbered.

He turned and saw Jace's mouth moving but couldn't hear the words he said over the crash down the hall and the unmistakable crackling of flames.

**There you go! I hope you guys liked it!**

**You know you want to review. Review and I shall write more. (Too late!) Well, I'll post more. ;D**


	2. 2

**Title:** The New York City Angels

**Summary:** They'd always thought Idris was home. Every Shadowhunter did. Only as they watched their home destroyed in front of them did they realize that they'd been home all along. T for language mostly.

**Notes: **Wow, I'm so happy! I got reviews, and people added me to their alert lists, and favorited the story - and me as an author! I'm so glad that you all like the story so much, and in my defense, the cliffhanger wasn't my fault: Magnus told me to. And how can you resist such a wonderful warlock? Also, you know that song, Angels on the Moon, by Thriving Ivory? That was the inspiration for the story - it's even part of the title. Give it a listen while you read - you'll see. Please, once again, if you catch anything, let me know! I'm trying to do the fandom justice!

**Disclaimer: As much as I'd love to, I do not own the Mortal Instruments series. I'm only missing a few of the ingredients to the Polyjuice potion, but for now, I do not own. Sad face. I wish I owned something.**

The door to Magnus's apartment swung open and there stood a man, most likely a werewolf, that seemed vaguely familiar to Magnus. Perhaps he was one of Luke's pack?

As soon as the werewolf started to speak, Magnus recognized his voice. His name was Eric or something like that. He wasn't of Luke's pack, but he frequented Magnus's parties. Magnus wasn't surprised it took so long to recognize him; it was hard to make a lasting impression on someone if you saw them only when they were drunk.

"… and just down the street Cody was attacked by one of those demons, the du-sen, or something like that. We need you to look at him. We took care of one of them, but the rest ran off." The were stopped for a second and added, "You probably want to tell the Shadowhunters. You know some of them, don't you?"

Magnus chose not to answer the question. "So where is this Cody?"

"Tim is bringing him right up." Eric paused uneasily. "How much is this going to cost us?"

"I'll have to see how bad the injury is, if it's poisoned, stuff like that. I'll charge you based on that." Magnus felt his phone vibrate and held up a hand. "Just a moment."

He saw that Alec was calling, and opened the phone. "Hello?" Eric had gone out in the hallway to help his friend up the stairs.

"Magnus, how fast can you get to the Institute?"

Magnus furrowed his brow. "I've got someone that needs healing from a Du'sien demon, like the ones you killed earlier. Why do you ask?"

"The Institute is burning down and we're surrounded. We all the help we can get." Alec was cut off by a large crash and the shouts of his sister.

"Alec? Are you there?"

There was a pause that lasted only a few seconds; to Magnus it stretched into an eternity. He let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding when Alec responded, "I can't talk anymore. How soon can you get here?"

"I'll be there in a few minutes, darling. I just need to make a call," he breathed, picking up the landline and dialing already. "And Alec?"

"Yes?"

"I love you. Don't get yourself hurt."

"I'll try not to. I love you too." The call ended, the dial tone washing through the receiver.

Magnus started dialing a familiar number when he remembered, cursing under his breath. Fell was dead, killed by Valentine.

So, who would be charitable enough to take care of the were in his absence?

Okay, who owed him a favor?

As the boys came in the door, Magnus waved them to the couch and entered the number. The phone was picked up on the first ring. "Hello?"

"Marcus, darling. It's Magnus."

"I know that. What are you calling me for, Bane?" Marcus sounded irritated and impatient.

Magnus frowned. "Expecting someone, Zusak? I just wanted to ask if you remembered the favor you promised me. If I remember correctly, you owed me one."

Marcus Zusak groaned. "One of the worst mistakes of the century, I see." A sigh. "What do you need?"

"Young Cody here needs healing, and I have matters that are a bit more pressing. So could you be a dear and take care of it for me? They'll pay you, of course, and if they can't afford it, I'll pay."

Marcus laughed. "Fine. It must be dire need if you're willing to pay me for this, Bane. I'll be there in a flash." He hung up.

A knock came at the door only a minute after. Magnus opened it, and ushered the warlock in. "I'll be back soon, Marcus. I have my cell, though I highly doubt you'll need me." With those words, he left the apartment, rushing down the rickety staircase and bolting down the sidewalk.

* * *

Simon walked down the street with the crowds. He was heading for the Institute, even though he wasn't going to be allowed in. He was hoping Isabelle would still be up for going out that night, even though he'd been unable to lie to Clary.

He shook his head in shock. He was still surprised that Isabelle had gone after him when she could so obviously have anyone else. He wasn't complaining; she was one of the best parts of his new life in the Shadow World.

But was it just because he was a Downworlder now? The question kept coming up at the back of his mind.

That was stupid, though. His change into a vampire wasn't the only change he'd undergone; he'd grown up a lot in the time since Clary told him about Shadowhunters, and the world they saw.

Simon's thoughts were cut short as he saw the smoke rising in the distance.

The smoke was coming from the Institute.

He broke into a run.

* * *

Jace swung out with his seraph blade, decapitating a Drevak demon and stepping back to avoid the spray of ichor and guts as the demon folded in on itself. An Oni demon stepped forward to fill the Drevak's space, coming at Jace with its tusks. He managed to dodge the attack and nearly got hit by the poison a spider demon shot at him.

He swung out with the blades and left the spider twitching on the ground, figuring it would die within minutes.

The sight of Clary's red hair caught his eye, and he watched her and the bloodsucker fought together. She had gotten hold of a seraph blade while the vampire fought tooth and nail – literally.

As he saw Clary lash out at a Raum demon, his stomach lurched and he wished once again that he had thought to apply a Fearless rune. It would have done him serious good; the battle on Valentine's ship was proof of that to him, even if the others didn't particularly approve.

He fought his way through the demons to her and stabbed the Du'sien behind her in the abdomen, grinning as it screamed and disappeared.

Clary whipped around and called out, "Jace!"

Jace found that he was able to fight and talk to Clary. In light of their situation, he'd rather be doing the former, especially because the latter meant facing how wrong and selfish his decisions were. "What is it, Clary?"

Demon blood sprayed onto the back of Jace's gear and as he spun around he found Clary standing over a figure folding in on itself. "Thanks for that," he called out, whipping back around towards another advancing demon.

He heard his name being called and feinted; he escaped the demon he was fighting to look in the direction of the voice.

He saw Alec and Isabelle standing back to back, her whip sailing through the air and dispatching an Iblis demon, his _parabatai_ lashing out with a _guisarme_ at another. Alec looked up from his demon and was rewarded with a tendril of what looked like smoke snaking around his wrist and solidifying. Jace raced toward them and saw Isabelle and Alec take down the Iblis together.

When he reached them, he called over the din of wailing demons, "You okay?"

Alec nodded in response and yelled back, "Is everyone else doing alright?"

"As far as I've seen." Alec was staring at something behind him, and Jace turned, seraph blade at the ready, expecting another demon.

He saw the collapse of the top floor of the Institute but couldn't hear it. He coughed as the ash came over them again, heavier in the air now than it was before.

The crowd of demons was thinning fast, but from the individual standpoint, it seemed like the battle would never end. So Jace turned away from the burning building, returning his attention to the fight at hand.

"Look!" Isabelle called, pointing towards the street. It was empty, almost like it had been cleared specifically for the siege. Jace turned with Alec but didn't see anything; they were accosted by another Iblis.

They didn't have a chance to get in a blow, though, because a streak of blue sparks hit the demon in the chest and it disappeared. Alec grinned and turned towards the towering figure from which the sparks had come.

Magnus had arrived. He strode towards them, a grin on his face to match Alec's. "You called?"

A Ravenor crawled towards them, and Isabelle took it out quickly, wrapping her whip around the stinger and pulling. The demon's poison poured out of the wound and half drowned it. It died with a gurgling scream.

Isabelle laughed.

* * *

Finally, the horde of demons was gone, the demons themselves either killed or fleeing. Maryse was applying an _iratze_ to Robert's back as the others put away their weapons; Isabelle coiling her whip, Alec shoving the _guisarme_ into his belt, and Jace and Clary putting away their seraph blades. Simon was covered in demon blood and ichor and he was spitting on the ground. The air around Magnus was hazy from his magic use, and blue flames licked up and down his arms and at his fingertips.

They all turned to the Institute, knowing they couldn't avoid it forever.

The last of it was burning and the fire was persistent; the ashes that had settled looked like gray piles of snow.

Clary remembered the first time she saw the Institute when she woke up in the infirmary.

She watched as the fire devoured it.

Jace remembered coming up to those same doors years ago after witnessing his father's supposed murder.

He saw them crumble to ash.

Isabelle remembered how she would walk in after a day of slaying demons and Max would be waiting, jumping up and down and dying to hear about their day.

She felt a part of her being destroyed along with the place that held so many memories of her dead little brother.

Alec remembered how often he couldn't wait to escape the Institute's cold rooms and seek solace in Magnus's warm embrace.

He realized that he could never go back as the flames licked his home.

They'd always thought Idris was home. Every Shadowhunter did. Only as they watched their home demolished in front of them did they realize that they'd been home all along.

They stood there, and one by one, they grabbed each others' hands, if only to find something to hold on to.

**I've been obsessed with these songs lately, I dunno why other than the fact that they're awesome:**

**Itoshii Hito by Miyavi (a wonderful contender for Magnus!)**

**Starry Night by Chris August**

**Jar of Hearts by Christina Perri**

**Spotlight (New Regrets version) by Patrick Stump (for his solo album!)**

**They're ah-mazing! So, replying to your reviews:**

**Bookworm24601: I've posted more! I'm glad that I've got you hooked, and thanks for looking out for mistakes!**

**HidingDani: It's Magnus's fault that it was a cliffhanger. He was all, 'No, no, no. Stop here.' And you can't say no in response. I'm glad you like it!**

**AverageDreamer: I have written more like that - hope you like the battle scene! I was kind of torn on if I should try the battle scene, because I'm not that good at writing them, but I think it came out okay.**

**vfthp: Wow. You are an amazing reviewer. The analysis was... I'm speechless. You rule! I feel inadequate responding because... I don't have much to say back to that except thank you!**

**To everyone that reviewed, subscribed, and favorited, a big thank you! I'm so glad you guys like it! More to come soon!**


	3. 3

**Title:** The New York City Angels

**Summary:** They'd always thought Idris was home. Every Shadowhunter did. Only as they watched their home destroyed in front of them did they realize that they'd been home all along. T for language mostly.

**Notes: **Thanks to everyone who reviewed, alterted, favorited, you know, all that stuff. It really means a lot. I'm working on the next chapter as we speak! I hope you guys don't think I'm changing the POVs too much - there's just a lot I want to put forth, especially now that they're not all held conveniently in the Institute.

**Disclaimer: As much as I'd love to, I do not own the Mortal Instruments series. I'm only missing a few of the ingredients to the Polyjuice potion, but for now, I do not own. Sad face. I wish I owned something.**

Clary drew her hand out of her pocket, clutching her keys, but before she could unlock the door it flew open to reveal her mother on the other side.

"I thought I heard someone out here," Jocelyn murmured.

Clary hugged her mom, saying, "You talked to Luke about Isabelle staying here, right?"

Jocelyn nodded. "Oh, it's perfectly fine. We're more than happy to have you, Isabelle." She directed the last part at the black haired Shadowhunter standing behind her daughter. Isabelle stood nervously in the doorway, but not awkwardly. _No_, Clary thought, _Isabelle's never awkward._

She led her friend to her bedroom and sat down in the chair in front of her desk. Isabelle sat on the edge of the bed, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. Clary wasn't sure if she even noticed what she was doing; she seemed out of it.

Of course she was out of it. Her home had burned down. She was left with almost nothing.

When she'd thought about having someone stay with her, her mind had immediately gone to Jace. But she asked Isabelle instead; her mother would not have approved of Jace staying with them.

And Simon had nervously offered Jace the guest room at his house. Clary allowed herself a small smile when she thought of it. The two boys had never really gotten along well, and this couldn't be helping.

Maryse and Robert had gone to contact a few friends in the Conclave to find somewhere to stay, and Alec had gone home with Magnus.

"Thanks for letting me stay, Clary." Isabelle's voice was quiet and shaky, but enough to shake Clary out of her reverie. Clary could actually see her sweating, see the hair sticking to her forehead, and was shocked by the sight of imperfections of Isabelle of all people. It was completely out of the ordinary.

But the entire day had been out of the ordinary.

Clary moved over to sit by her friend, telling her, "I'm glad you're here, Izzy."

Isabelle shook her head. "Can we go do something? I need to take my mind off of all this."

"Sure. We'll go shopping, or something," Clary told her, trying not to make a face while saying it. She'd never seen the appeal in shopping that other girls did, but she wanted to help her friend. If that meant shopping, then she supposed she was up for it.

She saw Isabelle's face brighten, and felt pity for the poor girl. The realization reminded her of something someone had said to her: _They say pity's a bitter thing._

* * *

Markus wanted to leave desperately.

He hadn't been around so much bright color since his last relationship, when he actually frequented the girl's apartment.

Magnus's apartment was an eyesore to him. A bright pink couch seemed highly unnecessary to him. But he was forced to kneel by it and heal the damn werewolf that Magnus had to abandon at the last moment. When Markus thought of where the other warlock might've disappeared to, he laughed. The text he'd received was probably from some new lover, complaining how they _needed him._

The werewolf was fine afterwards, just a little groggy, which was expected. Markus offered to call for a cab – just to get them and himself the hell out of there as soon as possible – but they declined, saying they could walk back.

After about two hours, Markus was turning another page in the book he'd conjured up for himself when the door swung open.

Magnus. Finally.

And… a Shadowhunter?

Markus started to ask, but the look the warlock shot him was pure poison, the message clear: don't say a thing.

Magnus led the boy to the couch and sat down with him, gently embracing him.

Markus cleared his throat. When the other man looked up, he said, "I'm gonna go now rather than watch you canoodle with your new boy toy."

The boy he was holding made no move to look up, but Magnus glared. "Go on, Zusak. Did anyone else call?"

When Markus shook his head, Magnus sighed. "Good. What do I owe you?"

"We'll talk about it later."

"Then get going." Magnus proceeded to wave his hand to let the door swing open, revealing the darkness of the stairwell that Markus was only too happy to walk into.

He looked back one last time, thinking that it was strange. Magnus was making no move for sex or even a heated kiss with the Nephilim boy. He just held him close, running a hand through the boy's jet black hair and murmuring softly to him. The boy looked up as if wondering why he wasn't gone yet and Markus saw eyes the color of bottle glass that he knew he'd seen before.

He whispered automatically, "Eyes like the night sky in Hell." He left quickly after that, feeling as if he'd seen a ghost.

* * *

Simon heard the front door open, a reminder that Jace was staying with him. He grimaced. He'd seen Clary's face when she asked Isabelle if she'd like to stay with her, and had seen the way Alec clung to Magnus. No, there was no one else who would take Jace with them, and though he didn't particularly want to, he'd offered Jace the guest room at his house. Jace had taken it surprisingly graciously, without any sarcastic comments or mocking looks. He'd even called him 'Simon' instead of the usual 'vampire.'

The moment they'd arrived at Simon's house and he'd talked to his mom about it, Jace thanked her and left, saying he needed to go out and clear his head.

Simon just hoped he wasn't going to some bar, getting drunk, and starting a fight like he'd done before.

But he didn't smell any alcohol on him. Just the normal park smell: dirt and murky water.

Simon was still a little surprised at his enhanced senses. It was a Downworlder thing; he was still getting used to the fact that he could smell the Shadowhunter coming in through the front door, could hear the soft scraping of his boots sliding off his feet from across the house.

He looked at the clock. 10:56.

Simon had told his mom that Jace probably didn't want to impose more than he had to when she had worried about him missing dinner. He assured her that Jace was able to get something to eat.

What Simon wasn't prepared for was his mom's proactive steps. She'd called the school and asked them if it was okay that Jace 'shadow' Simon, just so he had something to do. She'd remembered when Simon explained that Jace was home schooled and thought it was an excellent idea.

Simon wasn't so sure.

He supposed he was going to find out soon enough.

* * *

Magnus sighed as he closed the door behind yet another client. Everyone seemed to be either directly or indirectly affected by the demon attack earlier. There were a few things that he'd noticed were off, and in calling a few acquaintances and fielding a few customers, he discovered that something was definitely wrong.

This demon attack was nothing random.

He'd gathered a few things from the experience, the aftermath, and the reports of others. Apparently, the street was temporarily warded. Mundanes saw the road as a closed construction site. Other Downworlders felt a solid barrier between them and the street where the battle had taken place.

But he and Simon were let through for some reason.

Magnus had a few theories, but wanted to wait until things calmed down a little, got closer to normal than they were right then.

For instance, Alec wasn't acting normal at all.

He returned to his bedroom and saw Alec still hadn't moved. He was still sitting by the window, Chairman Meow asleep in his lap, and staring up at the sky. His expression hadn't even changed; his features were kept in a mask of cold apathy, his eyes the only telling parts of his face. They were bright with pain and sadness, filled with tears at times. He noticed that during those times Alec blinked them back.

Magnus returned to his post beside his Shadowhunter and laid his head on Alec's shoulder. Alec made no move towards or away from Magnus in response. It was like he really had turned into the statue he was emulating.

Magnus had seen this side of Alec once before, after Max's death and the funeral in Idris. It had taken a while, but he'd started smiling again, even laughing, and acting like a normal human being.

And now this: the destruction of the place he'd grown up, of the last things they had of Max's, of almost every worldly possession they had. Magnus's heart went out to him. He knew exactly what it felt like to lose a home, and felt Alec's pain as sharply as if it were his own.

Despite his understanding, this side of Alec still scared him. It seemed almost as if the Shadowhunter was wishing he'd follow the traces of ash and smoke that rose on the wind.

He was completely detached. Gone away.

It was almost like he'd gone up in flames with the Institute.

* * *

While approaching the school, Simon and Jace walked in silence. Jace hadn't said a word since he'd left the day before. Simon found himself wondering if Jace would be okay.

They walked in through the double doors at the front of the school and Simon started methodically weaving through the crowd, listening to make sure Jace stayed behind him. He put his bag into his locker and was closing the door when his nostrils flared.

Eric.

"Hey, man, what's up?" Eric called over the din of the hallway, an arm around his girlfriend Sheila, who grinned at Simon while popping her gum.

Simon shrugged. "Not much. This is Jace." The two exchanged the traditional terse nod – the greeting guys gave each other while trying to be 'badass', as Simon had explained to Clary. "He'll be here for a while. He's staying with me while his family… moves."

Eric raised his eyebrows and nodded. Simon knew he had something to say and prayed he wouldn't say it. _Not here, and not now_, he prayed silently.

Luck was on his side. Matt and Kirk came down the hall behind Eric and stood by Sheila, each giving Jace a nod, and tried to start up the band name discussion again. Simon left them when Matt tried to explain to Kirk and Eric why Head Case was a terrible band name after they finished arguing Rabid Squirrel.

Everything checked out at the office and the warning bell rang, sending the flood of students into the classrooms that lined the sides of the hall.

"So, they still don't know?"

Simon started at the sound of Jace's voice. It was the first thing he'd said since coming to stay with him. "Know what?"

Jace rolled his eyes. "That you're a –" Simon clamped a hand over his mouth to shut him up. They were sitting right behind Matt and Eric, and Kirk was just across the aisle between the rows.

He shook his head. "No, they don't. They're still mundies. There are no problems now that I can stand sunlight. Now drop it before they hear."

Then the bell for first period rang, interrupting Jace and preceding the prompt arrival of the teacher, Mr. Sparro. He deposited the books and papers he was carrying on his desk while the morning announcements came on.

Simon almost laughed at how normal things were. He listened enviously to the lunch menu: spaghetti and meatballs, ruled by the student body as the best lunch St. Xavier's had. He hadn't had spaghetti in a while, and he could swear his stomach rumbled at the thought.

But it wouldn't sate him now. There was only one thing for that.

* * *

Fire messages were sent out at opportune times to each of the Shadowhunter children.

Jace received his in the library of St. Xavier's, and had to put out the still smoldering paper quickly so as to not attract attention.

Clary received hers while she was working at Luke's bookstore. She shrieked, startling a customer.

Isabelle received hers in the dressing room of the boutique she was visiting alone, since Clary was working. She snatched it out of the air and cursed when some of the ash from the singed message got onto her white tank top.

Alec received his in Magnus's apartment. The appearance didn't seem to bother Chairman Meow, who blinked up at it sleepily and continued napping in the Shadowhunter's lap. Alec blinked and moved for the first time that day.

Each message said the same thing:

_ Let's have a round table meeting tonight, at around 8. There are some things we need to discuss, and the Conclave has come to a few decisions regarding the incident yesterday._

An address was given with the signature of Maryse Lightwood.

Meanwhile, Maryse and Robert Lightwood were staying with a few friends in the Conclave, oblivious to the fact that the younger Shadowhunters had been sent invitations to their deaths.

**Bookworm24601 - Don't worry, as you can see, it's not the end. We've got quite a bit of stuff to do before I'm finished with these guys ;) ****As for a guisarme, I wasn't sure what it was other than a weapon. It was in CoA when Robert offered it to Alec. I looked it up, and it's like a spear, kind of.**

**AverageDreamer - Thank you darling - I was hoping you'd like it. I am focusing on their home, and my English teacher would be proud - it's gonna be a 'motif' which is something you reference a lot in a story.**

**HidingDani - Yay, you liked it! Thanks again for the dividers advice - it's helped a lot. Here's the update you waited for!**

**So, since I'm almost finished with the next chappie, and I'm sure this cliffy is making you all nuts, I'll borrow the idea from MaybeThere'sHope. But this is just 5 reviews till an update, because I'm really excited about this story!**


	4. 4

**Title:** The New York City Angels

**Summary:** They'd always thought Idris was home. Every Shadowhunter did. Only as they watched their home destroyed in front of them did they realize that they'd been home all along. T for language mostly.

**Notes: **Thanks again to everyone! I'm so happy you guys like it! This was a little hard to write, and harder to post. I finished the newest chapter of MorbidMandy's Glitter and Glass story, and I was crying so hard. Everyone's being so mean to Alec lately. I guess I'm going with the crowd on this one. I hope you all like this.

**Disclaimer: As much as I'd love to, I do not own the Mortal Instruments series. Last time I checked, I was not Cassandra Clare, but I did roleplay Magnus Bane. Does that allow me ownership? ;)**

Alec pulled the soft cotton t-shirt over his head, messing up his already hopeless hair even more. He'd protested the offer, but Magnus had taken the chance to take some plain t-shirts and a few pairs of jeans while Alec dozed in the bedroom.

He was grateful – he felt as if he'd never be able to thank his boyfriend enough – but he couldn't put it into words. And he felt empty, so very empty. Like someone had ripped out his internal organs and he was just a shell of a person. Like he had when Max died, attending the funeral in traditional white with the red Marks of mourning, watching the ashes of his little brother fly away with the wind. The ashes of the Institute flew in the same manner.

He tried to smile more, though. Magnus was making such an effort to get him to smile, and even though he knew it was more of a pained smile or a grimace, he tried.

And Magnus was wary of him, too. Constantly keeping away from anything painful for him, no discussion if he didn't want to talk. Magnus actually seemed surprised, Alec noticed, when he left the room to show him the fire message. Was that because of the message, or how he was acting, he wondered.

He sat back down beside the window to wait out the next client of Magnus's, unaware of the warlock standing at the bedroom door, watching him with concern.

After a few minutes, he felt overly warm arms snake around his waist and leaned into his boyfriend's embrace. He shivered, still not used to Magnus's sudden warmth, especially since he was always so cold.

Alec took a deep breath and turned his head, meeting Magnus's lips with his own.

Later, they were so distracted that they didn't notice the time. The sun wasn't streaming through the window with the normal amount of daytime light, tipping them off as it grew darker. When they did look at the time, they regretfully disentangled to allow Magnus time to fix his hair. At Alec's protests, he said, "At least it was done up this morning. We'll be there soon, I just have to fix it. A certain Shadowhunter wasn't too keen on keeping his hands out of it. Not that I mind whatsoever, of course." With a wink, he retreated to his mirror.

Arriving at the location, Alec saw it was a nondescript warehouse-type building, probably some random piece of property the Clave owned the mundies were unaware of. He and Magnus seemed to be the only ones out, and he went inside, assuming the others were there.

The room at the entrance was completely empty, with nothing but a staircase going to the upper floors and a door at the other end.

He heard someone talking upstairs, and started towards them, but Magnus held onto his arm, a puzzled look on his face. Alec swallowed. "Magnus, what's wrong?" The warlock didn't reply at first, but started walking closer, slowly. He was mumbling something under his breath.

Then as he tried to tug Alec back out the door, they found it was shut, and red sparks growing into flames as tall as they were blocked their path.

Alec felt the pressure of Magnus's hand relieved, and found that he was gone, the sound of footsteps running overhead. He pulled out a seraph blade and named it – "_Israfel_" – and started up the staircase.

* * *

Isabelle and Clary reached the warehouse a few minutes late, and found Jace and Simon waiting for them. Isabelle called out to Jace, "Where's Alec?"

He shrugged, telling her, "He was coming with Magnus, but I haven't seen him. Maybe he's inside."

She saw Simon striding towards the door, hesitantly putting his hand on the doorknob. She traded glances with Jace and they approached with Clary right behind them. "Simon?"

"Someone's speaking in a language I don't know. It sounds like something I feel like I should know, though. And the door feels hot." Clary interrupted him as she cried out, pointing to a window that revealed a room burning in flames of bright red. Isabelle and Jace rushed forward, yelling at Clary to stay outside. Simon had backed away from the door, a look of terror on his face.

Isabelle smashed the glass with her whip and jumped in, with Jace close behind. They rushed up a staircase to a hallway with one door at the end. It stood slightly ajar, sparks of bright red and electric blue lighting the hall with their light. She adjusted the grip on her whip and checked her belt for good measure, making sure she had a blade handy. Jace had two seraph blades at the ready. They heard a voice, deeper than they remembered, but still intensely familiar, and a shout in response in another familiar voice: Alec. She followed Jace as they burst into the room, and tried to take in the scene before her.

Alec was standing in the middle of the room, a seraph blade in hand and seemed to be pounding his fist against air, though Isabelle knew there must be a glamour there. On the other end of the room stood two men, with sparks and flames shooting between them from their fingertips. The wooden floor was singed black from where it had burned from missed attacks, almost obscuring a pentagram that was carved into it. One of the men was Magnus, familiar now to her as Clary was. The other was unmistakable. It was the face she saw in her nightmares, though his pale blond hair was longer now, shoulder length, and he attacked with bright red magic. She had known him as Sebastian before, but she had learned of his real name.

Jonathan Morgenstern. She had been a bit apprehensive when his body hadn't been found, but Jace told her he'd killed him. Why wouldn't she take his word for it?

And yet he was standing there as if nothing had ever happened to him, much less a fatal knife wound.

He turned his head and she was enveloped in fear as her eyes met his. They were black and fathomless, gleaming with battling amusement and anger.

He grinned. "Isn't this a pleasant reunion? How's your brother, Isabelle?"

"You son of a bitch!" "You should be rotting in Hell!" Isabelle and Jace spoke simultaneously, and they rushed to Alec's side, meeting the same resistance as their brother.

"Now, now, there's no cause for such language, Jace. My father taught you better," Jonathan mocked. "I suppose Clary wasn't able to make it?" He looked behind them. "Well, speak of the devil."

The others looked back. There stood Clary, stele in hand, knife in the other. Isabelle wondered where she got the weapon.

"Nice to see you, sis." Clary just walked up to the wall and started to draw a rune, not focusing on the ash gray lines that seemed to appear in midair but instead glaring at her brother. _If looks could kill,_ Isabelle thought, _hell, he'd've been dead before Clary got here._

Noticing that his wall wouldn't stand a chance, he threw one last shot of sparks at Magnus's feet. The warlock jumped back and the blue flames lighting his fingers sputtered out. As he looked at them in confusion, Jonathan began chanting quickly in a language that hurt to listen to. Alec screamed as the bright red flames shot up around Magnus's feet.

Exactly where the lines of the pentagram was etched.

Jonathan's chanting grew faster and his grin grew even wider as Clary's rune finished, burning bright white like the witchlights that lit Idris. He stopped right before a noise like shattering glass reverberated in the room as the rune fell in a pile of ashes, but as they rushed forward, Alec at the front of the group, they found that they were too late. Magnus and the flames disappeared with Jonathan at the snap of his fingers. He uttered one last phrase while looking straight at Alec with malice and disgust: "See you in Hell, Lightwood."

When Alec punched the wall, it made a sound like a dull thud. Shoulders heaving, he sank to the floor and curled in on himself. Isabelle went over to console her brother while Jace led Clary from the room, cell phone in hand. He was most likely calling Mom, Isabelle observed. She turned her attention back to her brother when she heard the muffled sobs he emitted.

* * *

Alec wouldn't leave. He'd sometimes trace the pentagram with two fingers, but mostly he sat in silence as several members of the Conclave pieced together the story while they surveyed the room.

Alec wouldn't talk, either. His breath and voice had gone when he screamed. He felt as though Morgenstern had taken them along with Magnus as he disappeared.

Alec tried not to close his eyes. Whenever he did, he saw the mocking grin from the other side of the glamour wall, and the snap after which they had disappeared.

Alec couldn't hear much as the voice kept ringing in his ears, the language that hurt to listen to.

Alec tried to pretend not to feel anything when he was feeling everything imaginable. He was caught in a whirlwind of anger, sadness, guilt, confusion, pain, loss, hopelessness, and pure hate. There were brief periods of emptiness when he'd gain a reprieve from his emotions, but he wasn't sure whether he liked it more or less than facing what he felt.

Alec couldn't think clearly. Memories flooded his mind: the party where he'd met Magnus, going back to the apartment, the meetings in secret, and then the time he'd spent missing him in Idris, the kiss in the Accords Hall, the party afterwards, and countless nights spent together ever since. Occasionally a certain vivid memory would come up: the throaty laugh he loved to hear, the feeling of warmth from just being around Magnus, the sound of the words "I love you" in Magnus's voice, and his automatic reply of "I love you too."

After a few hours, though, he became more aware of what was going on. He noticed the Shadowhunters crowding the room had lessened in number, and that Jace and Clary had come back, and Simon still hadn't come inside. Or maybe he had, and Alec just didn't see him.

For that matter, he couldn't see much clearly, as his vision wavered. He finally realized that his face was wet. _Tears,_ he thought numbly. _Have I been crying all this time?_ He wiped some of them away and stared at them as they settled on his hand.

He noticed Isabelle's stare and turned to look at her. Her hair had been taken out of her braid, and her makeup was smeared. Had she been crying too? Her makeup was usually perfect, just like-

Magnus.

A fresh wave of tears threatened behind Alec's eyes, and he hugged his sister, burying his face in her shoulder before they spilled.

Once he had regained his composure, he supposed it was time to start joining in on the conversation.

If not to contribute, just to see what was going on.

His mother was talking in hushed tones to a few Shadowhunters in the Conclave – one of them he recognized as Sam Midwinter, who kept looking at him with something like pity in his eyes.

Alec needed to move, go get some air, talk to someone. He supposed Jace and Clary would know. Isabelle helped him up. He felt the pins and needles shoot up and down his legs and winced.

Isabelle caught Clary's eye, and they led Jace and Alec outside. As they walked down the street, Clary started filling him in.

"Okay, so it's pretty obvious now that Maryse didn't send those fire messages. She's pissed that Jonathan was able to pull this off, and we're doing everything we can to find them. Simon went back to Dumort to see if the vampires would help, though he said he could probably only convince a few of them. Luke's talking to his pack and other pack leaders about it, and they'll probably be able to help. Maryse contacted some friend of Magnus's, Markus something, and he's doing a tracking spell, reaching out to search the area, doing whatever he can." She paused. "What I don't get is why he decided to take Magnus instead of one of us."

Isabelle replied haughtily, "Magnus is a warlock, a Downworlder that's been known to help us in the past. I mean, he _is_ Valentine's son. He probably just hates Downworlders like his father."

Something about that clicked in Alec's mind. When Alec spoke, his voice was clearer than he'd expected it to be, but still soft and quiet. "Magnus is a warlock, one that we know well and care about. He's been there to heal us whenever we encounter demon poison that the Silent Brothers can't take care of, since there haven't been any since Valentine killed the previous ones."

Clary gasped. "That's probably his next move! We can't get rid of demon poisons by ourselves, and having Magnus around has been awful convenient. But the fire – it's like he's magic."

"He does have Greater Demon blood. It must be growing stronger. It explains the demons, it explains the way he could put up wards and use magic like Magnus can – it's like he's almost a warlock, except the Greater Demon blood burns out his humanity because it's from that Lady of Edom," Jace added.

"So, what now?" Alec tentatively whispered.

Isabelle slung her arm around her brother's shoulders. He was slumping down, which made him seem shorter than he really was. "Now, we tell Mom and Dad and the rest of the Conclave about what we were talking about, and wait for Magnus to be found."

There was an unspoken understanding between them, though. Isabelle sounded as if she had more to say, but she didn't need to. They all knew that they probably wouldn't find Magnus, not if Jonathan didn't want him found. And they knew exactly what they were waiting for instead.

They were waiting for Jonathan to make his next move.

**Disturbing Emily - Thanks for the review. I hope you like the new chapter.**

**Bookworm24601 - Now we know who sent the letters. And fantabulous? You really think I deserve that word? Why thank you. I will do my best to keep it up!**

**Chairman Meow II - Lol, I love your screen name! Thank you for the review! I've been doing the same - we have until April. Have you read the teaser chapter for CoFA? It's in the paperback for City of Glass - I love it. It's got Malec cuteness. And you got the Markus Zusak reference! I love you for that! Hope you like this chapter as much as the previous one!**

**HidingDani - That's one of the reasons I was a little hesitant in updating. Everyone's been so mean to Alec lately. I guess I've joined the club. I was thinking about putting the couples together, but decided against it. Jocelyn would never approve, and could you imagine what Simon's mom would say? A friendship is pushing it, but they are on better terms lately. To tell you the truth, I'm not sure exactly where I'm going with this - anything could happen!**

**AverageDreamer - If he wasn't depressed last chapter, he certainly is now. Thank you for the review, and I hope you like the new chapter!**

**Snow Angel5466 - I'm glad you're intrigued. I hope you're just as intrigued by this one!**

**Fly Away Dreams - Poor Alec, I'm feeling bad for him, too. He's just going through so much bad stuff lately in almost all the fics I've read. I hope you like Tangled. It looks like a cute movie.**

**dandy9 - Thanks for the review, hon! I'm glad you like it, and I hope you like this one just as much!**

**OK, so this time, because the chapter I'm planning next is so long - I'll wait for 10 reviews until I post. I figure that should give me some time. So please review? I'm sure you all want Magnus back with everyone and everything okay just as much as I do - though I can't promise much right now *evil grin***


	5. 5

**Title:** The New York City Angels

**Summary:** They'd always thought Idris was home. Every Shadowhunter did. Only as they watched their home destroyed in front of them did they realize that they'd been home all along. T for language mostly.

**Notes: **Heh, heh heh. So this is a bit of a filler, and the next one will probably be too. I know it's really short, but I'm trying to work out the plot of this, and I'm hitting a bit of an abyss. If anyone would be willing to help me work through it? I'd really appreciate it. I hope you like it, darlings!

**Disclaimer: As much as I'd love to, I do not own the Mortal Instruments series. Last time I checked, I was not Cassandra Clare, but I did roleplay Magnus Bane. Does that allow me ownership? ;)**

As he made his way down Eric's street, Simon's nerves were bunching up in his stomach. He was going to band practice – it was pretty convenient to have to go to, especially when the Shadowhunters were in work mode.

They'd retreat into their 'No Downworlders Allowed' tree house, not willing to let anyone help without the Angel's blood.

Simon conceded that he wouldn't be much help himself. He was only seventeen after all, despite the fact that he was a vampire. He would be of no use to them, and all he could think of when he was around them was getting away. He saw past their initial politeness that masked many of the Shadowhunters that had been at the warehouse. They were cold to him; not exactly mean, but not exactly kind either. He knew the contempt they had for his kind, and had gotten used to being part of that group.

Even though he'd turned down an escort, he still felt a bit nervous. He _was_ a freakishly awesome vampire, but the fear that what happened to Magnus could happen to him kept his pace brisk.

But opening the door and entering Eric's house like it was his own, like he always did, eased his worries a little.

Before going downstairs, though, he locked the front door.

He knew it wouldn't keep Jonathan Morgenstern at bay, but it still gave him a sense of comfort.

* * *

"C'mon man, you've got to eat."

"I don't exactly feel hungry, Jace."

"But I picked up Chinese food, just for you."

"I told you I'm not hungry. I shouldn't have to say it again."

"You need to eat anyway."

"You can't make me."

"I can try."

"You wouldn't dare."

"Then eat it yourself."

"Fine."

"What is this?"

"I don't know. It was on when I turned on the TV. Probably some reality show."

"I'm going to see if Psych is on."

"Whatever."

"Yes! Did you see that, Alec? I knew. I'm just skilled that way."

"Please. You have the schedule pretty much memorized."

"It's easy. It's only on one night of the week."

"Why do you bother keeping up with it?"

"To make sense of the underlying plot."

"What plot? Each one seems like it stands by itself."

"_Some_ of them have plot. And besides, all of them have Maggie Lawson."

"Who?"

"The chick that plays Juliet."

"You would know that."

"Yes, I would. It's only the beginning of the vast stores in my mind."

"Most of which must be empty."

"Now, just because you're jealous is no reason to hate. There should only be love in this room. Or maybe it was the bedroom?"

A hollow laugh. "Wow, Jace."

"Don't pretend. We all know."

"God, Jace, just shut up about it."

"It's fine, Alec. We don't care. In fact, I'm doing well myself."

"Ugh, I did not need _that_ mental image."

"Perv. Get your mind out of the gutter. Hanging around Magnus has made him rub off on you."

"Like you're not worse than I am."

"I never said that."

"That's really hypocritical, you know that?"

"Nonsense. It's just part of my natural charm. It draws people towards me."

A pillow is thrown. "You are so full of yourself."

"As opposed to being full of what?"

"Not to mention good at backing yourself into corners. You're full of it, Jace."

"I've never claimed anything less."

A pause, watching the television.

Laughter.

"What's so funny, Jace?"

"How can you not laugh at that, Alec? 'Don't be exactly half of an eleven pound black forest ham.' It doesn't get better than that."

"It does."

"Eh, I've heard it both ways."

"I'm out of here."

"Whoa, man, what's wrong?"

"Jeez, Jace, I'm just getting more to drink. Way to freak out."

"I think I have a right to lately."

In a whisper, "Don't."

* * *

Clary and Isabelle came home shortly after Jace left with Alec, planning on taking him back to Magnus's apartment and giving him some company.

Of course, Jace hadn't figured that out himself, but it was still a nice thing to do.

Since the girls weren't considered adults in the Clave yet, the other Shadowhunters didn't have much use for the two of them. They were exhausted; everything that was going on lately was just too much for them. But when Clary rolled over to her other side yet again, she saw Isabelle's black eyes, open and alert, just as unable to fall asleep as she was.

They decided to ditch the idea of sleep when it was so far out of reach. Instead they grabbed several of the takeout containers that were stacked in Luke's refrigerator and ate the contents while watching a random movie. It was one of Clary's favorites, and she got Isabelle to like it as well – the Princess Bride.

By the time Luke and Jocelyn got home, though, the girls had fallen asleep with the television still on in the background, unable to rouse them.

The next morning, Clary woke up entangled with a blanket on the floor of the living room. She rubbed her eyes and yawned, progressing into a stretch of her arms above her head. She registered the TV on, and the presence of her friend, but simply groaned and flopped back to the floor in just-woken exhaustion.

Her head was right next to Isabelle's shoes: tennis shoes this time, instead of her usual heels or boots, and she had on skinny jeans and a simple white t-shirt. It accentuated the jet black hair that hung down almost to her waist. But that hair that was usually so well groomed and always looking perfect, it was tangled and still wet from the shower, a few sections drying with the tangles, and Isabelle did nothing about it. She just watched the television with a detached sort of interest, and when she turned to look at Clary, her face held the same expression. "Morning, Clary." She reached for a mug on the table at the end of the couch. "There's coffee."

"Thanks, Izzy," she replied, resigning to getting up and walking to the kitchen if caffeine was involved. She looked at the clock. 10:28 in the morning. She allowed herself a small smile – lately she hadn't gotten much of an opportunity to sleep in.

She grabbed a mug and filled it up from the pot that sat on the counter, still hot, and returned to the living room, sitting by her friend.

They sat there for some time, watching the TV but not paying any attention to the show, sipping their coffee and enjoying the silence and the presence of each other.

The silence was broken after an hour or so when a knock on the door sounded. Clary started, realizing that she hadn't changed out of her pj's or fixed her hair or done much of anything of that sort since she'd woken up.

Isabelle didn't make any move to get up, though, so Clary pulled on a sweatshirt and answered the door.

She was greeted by the sight of golden hair tumbling over eyes the exact color of honey. She sighed, "Jace."

He smiled at her and wrapped her in a hug. Then she didn't care about how she looked: not the terrible state her hair must have been in, or the fact that she was still in her rumpled pajamas from last night. She just held on to him and he held her and she breathed in his scent.

As they pulled apart, Clary led him back into the living room where Isabelle finally looked up. "Where's Alec?" was the first thing she said. She'd furrowed her brow, in worry, Clary assumed.

"He's at the apartment. Why?"

Izzy jumped up from the couch, striding over to Jace quickly. "Why, in the _hell_, did you just leave him there?"

Jace shrugged. "He's an adult, Izzy. He can take care of himself. He seemed fine."

"He's not fine! He's nowhere _near_ fine!" She spat at him. "He's lost his home and his boyfriend in a matter of a few days – one of which was the anniversary of his little brother's death! Would you be fine in his situation?"

Jace seemed to be at a loss for words, mumbling, "Well, it wouldn't happen to me, 'cause I'm straight, but-"

Isabelle pushed him back, snapping at him, "Is this all a joke to you? He's probably sitting there, alone, wallowing in misery while you're here having a laugh."

_Maybe it was a little dramatic,_ Clary thought, _but it got the point across._

Jace paused before he responded, suggesting that they go keep him company. Izzy nodded and Clary went to change.

Later, they arrived at the warlock's flat in Brooklyn. Jace pulled out his stele and put an Unlocking rune on the door, not bothering with the buzzer. The trio walked up the rickety stairs and arrived at the door, pausing only a moment before going in.

At first, Alec was nowhere to be seen. He wasn't in the front room or in the open room adjacent to it. They went to the bedroom door that was slightly ajar, wondering why they hadn't checked there first.

He was there, curled up on the small mattress clutching the canary yellow comforter to himself, asleep. Even unconscious, he was frowning, looking as if he'd slept terribly. There were tear tracks evident on his face and his hair was more messed than Clary had ever seen it. A soft purring sound came from the feline stretched out on the pillow Alec lay beside. _Magnus's_, Clary figured.

Slowly and quietly, they left the room, easing the door shut behind them. Clary felt as though she'd intruded on a private moment, even though he was asleep.

Words she'd heard before came to her instantly as she dwelled on Alec, something Jace had told her: _That to love is to destroy, and to be loved is to be destroyed._

_

* * *

_

**Fly Away Dreams - I'm sorry that I made you sad. And after seeing Tangled, and before babysitting - you need lots of happiness and tolerance then. But things seem to work out. It does seem that we're all torturing our boys lately, aren't we? I'm just glad for Misery Loves Glamour - it's fluff we all need.**

**Bookworm24601 - Wow, I'm sorry to hear about your grandmother. Cancer sucks. And I can't promise nothing will happen to Magnus - things are always happening, and things are going to happen. I just don't know if they're good or bad yet.**

**LiLi-GirlwithALOTofIdeas - I'm impressed! You reviewed all the chapters instead of just the last one. I'm glad I made you laugh, and that you liked the battle scene. I'm glad you like it, and I hope you like this chapter!**

**AverageDreamer - I honestly have no idea what Alec's gonna do. He's kind of just... there right now. I'm having a few plot issues, but I hope you like it!**

**DisturbingEmily - You'll have to keep reading to find out. Thanks for the review!**

**HidingDani - I'm glad that I'm keeping you interested. This is one of the first stories I've ever written that left the reader with cliffhangers at the end of the chapters, so I'm glad they're working out!**

**LevithanLover - Your screen name = my eternal love. David Levithan rules! I love Will Grayson, Will Grayson. Thanks for the review!**

**Ok, so I've got to tell you something.**

**I'm not updating until next year.**

**WHICH, INCIDENTALLY, is in a few hours XD And btw, Misery Loves Glamour was just updated - I got the notification in the middle of writing this, so go show Brooke some love.**

**But seriously - I need someone who is willing to help me out with my plot. I'm seriously standing at the edge of an ocean of possibilities but I can't find any that seem good to me. I know a few things that I want to happen, but the big picture is so blurry I can't see it. So please review, and PM me if you can help out with the plot! HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYBODY!**


	6. 6

**Title:** The New York City Angels

**Summary:** They'd always thought Idris was home. Every Shadowhunter did. Only as they watched their home destroyed in front of them did they realize that they'd been home all along. T for language mostly.

**Notes: **SO! EVERYONE! ATTENTION! **I added a few things to the previous chapter, since it seemed more like it should go with that one. Go read it again, and then come back here.** Ok, so I owe this wonderful continued plot to my darling - AverageDreamer. Sweetheart, you're amazing! She helped me through my plot problems and has been a consistent and sweet reader. Thank you hon!

By the way... if you haven't seen this video that had the link posted in another popular Malec story, then here it is! ht tp:/ /www. youtube. com/ watch?v = c3QHwMICJ38 I hope it'll work for you, and if not, search ADOMMY: PARALYZER at YouTube - so hot! I swear, those boys are just... *swoon*

**Disclaimer: As much as I'd love to, I haven't written the Mortal Instruments series. Cassie Clare owns that sexy warlock and that adorable Shadowhunter with the clear blue eyes. *sigh***

The first thing he saw when he opened his eyes was the blanket, canary yellow and smelling of Magnus. The warmth he usually felt was gone, though, disappeared. Alec groaned. He wasn't able to forget: not when he was awake, and not even when he was asleep.

When he was awake, he would hear that voice, spitting the words at him with venom in his voice.

_And you, I think we all know what's wrong with you._

_You're disgusting._

_They shouldn't let your kind in the Clave._

_See you in Hell, Lightwood._

When he was asleep, he'd see that face looking at him, malice, mocking, and disgust in his eyes.

He didn't want to sleep, but he didn't want to stay awake, either. He felt like he already was in Hell, and he was seeing Jonathan everywhere. A flash of fair hair would send a tremor through his body, and the sight of pale skin in a crowd would send him into hyperventilation. He didn't feel safe anywhere except for the apartment, but the apartment held so many memories for him that hurt to think about.

Alec hated him so much, but what he hated even more that it was all he could think about. He only ever saw Jonathan while he slept, fueling the cold sweat and quick breathing that followed the nightmares instead of the dreams he had that centered around Magnus.

He was so frustrated, so pissed off at everything. He wasn't sure he would be able to put up any kind of facade like he had the previous night with Jace. He just didn't have it in him anymore.

A soft meow came right next to his ear, and a rough tongue started going over his forehead. Chairman Meow jumped and glared at Alec when he swatted at him, and decided to curl up around his arm, just to prove who mattered more.

Alec thought he didn't find anything funny anymore, but he found that he was wrong as a smile broke out across his face and he started laughing. His voice sounded hoarse to his own ears and he felt terrible, but he laughed anyway.

The cat looked at him with what seemed to be a grin, and purred as if he'd planned the whole thing, just to get a laugh out of the boy.

Later, Alec followed Chairman out of the bedroom to the kitchen, where the cat stood by the empty food bowl and looked up at him, as if asking, _Well? Aren't you going to feed me? Get to it, human._

When he poured the food from the bag into the cat's bowl, the feline bolted for it, nearly biting Alec's hand in his hurry to eat.

Alec noticed that the cat was taking Magnus's absence relatively well.

He also noticed that this was a cat, and that he probably wouldn't be bothered as long as he still got food and love.

As he watched the feline eat, his mind wandered. He knew that it was his fault that Magnus was gone. It was true that Jonathan hated Downworlders as a whole, but he specifically hated the Lightwoods, Clary, and anyone that knew a Downworlder, much less anyone that dated them. He knew that if it wasn't for him, Magnus would be just fine. Right now, if he'd never met Alec, he would probably be picking his outfit for the day, doing his makeup, maybe even accepting clients already.

But then he thought about where he'd be – still pining over Jace, still hiding his dirty little secret, keeping the closet door locked as his disdain for Clary grew into hate as the two grew closer to each other. Magnus had done so much for him: encouraged him, given him someone to look up to, someone he could love who would love him in the same way.

And all Alec had done for Magnus was get him kidnapped by some half-demon psychopath hell bent on the destruction of Downworlders and the Shadowhunters that associated with them.

Everyone hated Jonathan. He was part of the reason Max was gone, the reason so many innocent people were dead, and he was the one who'd said… those things outside the Gard when Hodge was dying. Everyone there had been insulted, called disgusting, stupid, or something of that nature, and of course it would have an effect on them. But Jace and Clary had proved him wrong – they weren't brother and sister, it turned out. So the only one he'd actually struck home with permanently was Alec.

He knew that he shouldn't feel like Jonathan was right, because of course he wasn't. Magnus was gay a thousand times more than Alec was, and he was the furthest thing from disgusting. He was a bewitching, funny, wonderful person. But that comment stuck with Alec to the point where he'd started pulling back from Magnus, both in public and in private. Magnus eventually figured out what was eating him, and tried to reassure Alec, but a small part of him wondered if Jonathan had gotten something right for once.

The next few days passed in similar fashion. Alec would wake up, feed Chairman, and think. Clary, Jace, and Izzy came a few times, but they just made everything worse, more awkward. Clary stayed at Jace's side at all times, and Isabelle wouldn't let any kind of silence last for long, but talking didn't make it any better. He found that it got easier to think about Magnus if he just kept his emotions in check. He could still remember, could still think, but instead of feeling things, there was a hollowness in his stomach. It spoke of something wrong. He knew that his feelings were just going to build up and explode at some point, but he took the short-term gain instead.

A week after Magnus was taken, Alec was sticking to his normal routine. He was pouring cat food into Chairman's bowl and sifting through the same thoughts he'd been thinking the past few days. His phone buzzed, snapping him out of his reverie. He reached for it and opened the message.

Jace: _Alec we need u to come to Clarys. Some 1 else went missing. Every1s freaking out. Theres a search party. They need u 2 help._

Alec wrinkled his nose at the last part. They didn't need or want him there, he knew, they just thought it would be a good way to get him out of the apartment.

Nevertheless, he dressed quickly, grabbing his jacket and boots before leaving.

The weather certainly matched his mood. The sky was thick with clouds so dark they looked purple and everything looked all the more dull because of it. Bright signs looked old and faded, completely uninviting. It looked like everything outside wasn't aware that there was such a thing as color. Even if it was bright and colorful, it wouldn't be to Alec. Not since the bright spot of color in his life disappeared.

Upon his arrival, Isabelle ran out of the house, dressed in gear with her golden whip encircling her whip. Her hair was streaming out behind her, like a thick black cape. She nearly tackled him in a hug.

"I'm so glad you're all right!" she exclaimed.

Alec pulled away and looked at her in feigned confusion. "What do you mean? Of course I'm all right."

Isabelle glared at him. "Bullshit. There's no possible way you're fine. I meant that you got here safely."

"I can take care of myself, Izzy."

"Don't be so sure of that," she told him. "First, he takes Magnus, and now Luke is gone. And in a matter of seconds, no less."

"What?"

She shook her head. "I'm still wrapping my head around it. Jace was there, he can tell you." She took his arm and steered him into the living room where Jace and Clary sat, with two empty seats across from them; Alec assumed they were for him and Izzy. He took a seat next to the redhead who turned and hugged him just as Isabelle had; only she didn't allow him to pull away. On the contrary, she held onto him with a grip like a vise, wetting Alec's shoulder with her tears. He didn't pull away, but he looked at everyone around him in confusion. What could have possibly gone so wrong that _Clary_ was coming to hug _him_?

Jace shook his head, mouthing to Alec, _Later._

What could be so bad that they couldn't talk about it then? It obviously had to do with Clary, as she was still crying in Alec's hug. He could only wonder what happened.

Later, after Isabelle pried Clary from Alec and took her to another room, he looked to Jace to finally get answers. He looked really bad: there were dark circles under his eyes and his hair was messed up – like he hadn't paid any attention to it rather than he just messed it up to look that way. His eyes were half lidded; he seemed barely able to keep them open. He hesitated, a very un-Jace move, and proceeded to tell his _parabatai_ what had happened.

"Yesterday, Luke was on his way back to the bookstore with Maia. They were both going to work their shifts, and Maia was walking faster than Luke was. She turned a corner and stood and waited for Luke to come after her, and he didn't. When she went back around the corner, everyone was gone: there were no mundies, no Downworlders, and Luke was gone. It stank of demons. Maia checked all the alleys, the stores, she kept yelling for him, but he's missing."

There was a minute of silence. "Clary's certainly upset," Alec finally said, almost at a loss for words.

"Not just her, Alec," Jace told him. "Everyone's freaked out. Isabelle was frantic. She called Clary and me immediately when she heard from Simon. She tried to call you, but your phone must have been off, or I guess you were asleep. Jocelyn is just like you were after last week, and Maryse is by her side all the time now. Robert is helping to head the search parties because Jocelyn doesn't have the heart to. This is big. We know it's Morgenstern. He obviously has something planned, and we have no idea what it is. He could be doing anything right now, and we wouldn't know about it, goddamn it!" Jace punctuated his last few words by hitting the table.

Alec was silent, letting the new information sink in and allowing blinding rage to come with it.

All Shadowhunters were crazy when it came to Valentine – when he was still alive. Now his son was taking his place, assuming the role perfectly, though in some ways he was worse than Valentine. He didn't bother pretending that he had any kindness, any kind of good quality. He had no charm, and even if he did, he wouldn't use it anymore. There was no need. Everyone knew him for what he really was: an abomination, and a threat.

The Clave was united against a common enemy when it came to Valentine, and it would be the same with Jonathan.

Alec would rather have a split Clave with no enemy other than those they were meant to fight: the demons.

A hoarse scream reverberated through the room, as if the voice had screamed quite often in a short amount of time.

Jonathan Morgenstern pulled away from the crumpled figure on the ground with a grin, the seraph blade burning brightly in its hand despite its black color. Its edge was dripping with blood, a little too dark to be human blood, but too red to be that of a demon. He grabbed a cloth from the table beside him and wiped the blade, staining the white cloth a dark red.

The figure on the ground shivered as blood poured from a wound that criss-crossed several others on his back. The fresh blood stung the cuts it came in contact with, eliciting a sharp hiss of pain. Blue sparks danced at the edges of the wounds, but seemed unable to go any farther. Warlock magic couldn't heal wounds made by a seraph blade.

Jonathan turned on his heel, grabbing another needle from the set. His smile didn't falter as he stabbed the needle into the gash, soaking his hands and the cuffs of his sleeves with the blood still pouring from it. But the needle was quickly filled with the dark red substance and he pulled it back out, setting it by a few others that were already filled. The figure on the ground thrashed, the searing pain overcoming him almost to the point of unconsciousness.

"Now," Jonathan drawled, "Do you see? Isn't it so much better when you don't struggle?"

The figure still writhed on the ground, not responding.

The boy stood above him, still grinning. "Or not. It doesn't make a difference to me. You won't make it for much longer. Although, it's not like you'll be going anywhere."

A faint voice came from the figure on the ground. "Damn you," he whispered.

Jonathan laughed. "I may be damned for now, warlock, but I will soon come to my rightful state of glory. A new world is coming, Downworlder. And it's one you and your disgusting little Shadowhunter won't be living in."

A strangled cry came from the figure. It took a moment to realize it was the only laugh he could manage. "You call us disgusting, when you're so much worse than us. You're just like him. Just like your beloved father, and just like the demon he shares a name with."

Jonathan whipped around and delivered a swift kick into the figure's ribs. He groaned and curled in on himself once again. Jonathan's voice was grim as he spoke. "My father was a wonderful man, completely brilliant. He was insightful, and he knew what he was doing. Except he thought he was doing it for the good of humanity." He laughed. "This world would wither and die under the mundies and they wouldn't notice. _They're_ the unworthy abominations. And for a thousand years, the Shadowhunters protected them."

He walked to the window at the other side of the room. "Well, that will go on no longer. There are higher beings that deserve to rule, more so than anyone. We will destroy the current order just as it was destroyed before. We will punish the hierarchy for what they have done unjustly. _Non serviam_, indeed." He paused for a moment, and spoke as if he were quoting the greatest of the great. The words mirrored those his father had once spoken, quoting from his own source. "_How are thou fallen from heaven, O Lucifer, son of the morning! How art thou cut down to the ground, which didst weaken the nations!_"

He snapped his fingers, and red flames flared up at the points of the pentagram drawn on the ground. A kneeling figure almost like a black silhouette with glowing eyes was seen through the flames. Its voice was deep as it asked, "What do you summon me for, my Lord Jonathan?"

"I believe I have the blood you need for now. Rise, Eidolon, and step out of the pentagram," he told the demon, his voice cold and authoritative.

The demon followed him to the table and after a nod from Jonathan, reached for the needles. "Oh, yes," he hissed, almost twirling the needle in his hand. "This will be sufficient for my task, my Lord. Do you know where to find the boy?"

Jonathan pointed to the figure on the ground. "That does. Search its memories. You have no need to be careful. He won't last for long anyway, and I don't need him for anything but his blood, which I can get even if he is brain dead."

The figure looked up, sweaty strips of hair falling from his face to reveal golden-green cat eyes filled with fear and pain as the Eidolon stepped towards him. The demon laid a hand upon his head, his hand black and almost formless, though it was recognizably a hand. A scream tore itself from the figure's throat as the Eidolon closed its glowing eyes.

"The symbol of the Morgensterns will no longer be a falling star. For we shall rise above all." Jonathan cast his gaze back to the window as he took in the scene from there, a cool smile curling his lips. "To our rightful place."

**OOOOH CLIFFY!**

**Bookworm24601 - Thanks for the review! I know - Psych is quite amazing. I've followed it for a few years now, and it's all I watch anymore since Monk finished. I'm pretty sure I couldn't give this a sad ending, though there's going to be a lot of angst and sadness and tragedy and all that before it gets better.**

**StoryKitten - Thanks for the review! I'm glad you like. Btw, that signature you have - it's pretty awesome. I like it :)**

**AverageDreamer - He's depressed again! Our poor Alec will be swimming in a sea of depression and nearly drowning for most of the story - he was just putting up a front when it came to Jace. My school started back up again about two weeks ago, and I've still got Geometry and Physics to do. Needless to say, I don't wanna do it.**

**So - once again, total props to my wonderful FFN friend AverageDreamer - she's like, a total inspiration, so supportive, and a really sweet reader, helping to point out a few things that I haven't seen myself. Her story is pretty epic - it's regularly updated too. Go read it.**

**But could you review? Chairman's trying to overcome his tiny size, and wants more food. Reviews give him foods!**

**Review? It's that little blue button. Right down there. No, to the left a little. Nah, that's too far. THERE WE GO. Click it. :D**


	7. 7

**Title:** The New York City Angels

**Summary:** They'd always thought Idris was home. Every Shadowhunter did. Only as they watched their home destroyed in front of them did they realize that they'd been home all along. T for language mostly.

**Notes: **So, once again, here it is! I was really nervous about writing this one, because I wanted it to have that weight that I wanted it to have. There was a lot of sadness that went into this chapter, so please review! It means a lot, especially for this one.

**Disclaimer: As much as I'd love to, I haven't written the Mortal Instruments series. Cassie Clare owns that sexy warlock and that adorable Shadowhunter with the clear blue eyes. *sigh***

Alec had gone out with one of the search parties that were looking for Luke. While they ducked into alleys and checked out empty buildings and places they might be, Alec's mind was elsewhere, dwelling on the irony of the phrase 'search party.' Party implied something fun – to people that found parties fun, that is. But having a search party – it was just plain depressing.

He was sent out with Adele Hightower and Sam Midwinter. He knew who they were, and they knew who he was, but they weren't any closer than that, so the majority of the search was spent in silence. It wasn't uncomfortable, exactly, but it was a bit awkward at times, especially when one of them felt the need to break it.

Sam was more familiar to Alec than Adele was; the Lightwoods and the Midwinters were the closest they got to friends in the Conclave, so they were the Shadowhunters that went to the Institute the most – other than those living there. He looked just like everyone else in his family: short, with shaggy brown hair that was cut to just above his ears. He was only a few years older than Alec was, though he didn't know exactly how many.

Adele on the other hand, Alec had only seen in passing, and their meetings had never been pleasant. She was a cold person, with gray eyes like ice and hair of pale gold falling straight down past her shoulders. Her tone was often condescending or apathetic, despite the polite façade she put forth. She didn't seem to be happy during the search; on the contrary, she seemed rather upset by something, acting downright nasty. Alec was sure it was either the fact that they were searching for a Downworlder or the fact that she had to work with him. Disgust and disdain laced the few words she'd sent his way, never mind that Alec was doing his best to be cordial in his tone and manner towards her.

They searched for hours, far past nightfall until Adele complained about how late it was – nearly midnight. Sam sent a look Alec's way, as if asking him about it, but Alec just shrugged, so they went back to Luke's house, where most of the others were convened.

A few minutes after arriving, Adele excused herself, explaining that she had an early morning the next day – or, rather, later that day. No one paid her any mind except for Alec, who watched her as she left and noticed a glance in his direction, one that held a murderous glare.

Alec shivered. He was glad she was gone; her presence unnerved him.

Jace had managed to get hurt. It was just a broken arm, he explained when Alec asked about the fading _iratze_ on his arm, but that didn't ease Alec's worries.

He was relieved, however, when Jace explained that he'd just fallen through a second floor that was rotted through and landed on his arm wrong.

No one else got hurt, though; no demons were found, no hints of Jonathan, Luke, or Magnus. Alec swallowed as he thought of the warlock again, his emotions pushing at the wall he'd pushed them behind. He'd deal with them later, when he could, but right then he couldn't afford to be dealing with how he felt.

Soon, there was nothing more to say. All the search parties returned with no luck, no injuries, and no news. The mood was dark as everyone said goodbye because they knew that this meant that Jonathan had won another round.

Alec took the subway home, not bothering to glamour himself. He was exhausted and to a point where he could break at any minute. Of course, his gear, his Marks, and his overall appearance got him a lot of unwanted attention. A group of guys nodded in greeting to him – they too sported tattoos up and down their arms – and both sexes were shooting glances his way, trying to get a proper look at him. He was glad when his stop came up, rushing off the train and back to the apartment.

He climbed the stairs up to the loft and opened the door to find –

"Magnus," he breathed. And it was true: the warlock was right there, sleeping on the hot pink couch while the TV droned on in the background. The fine glitter caught the light from the television and his hair was down, falling into his face like a sheet of black silk. He stirred at the sound of the door opening, and rubbed his eyes, murmuring, "Alec? Is that you?"

Alec still stood in the doorway, shock holding him in place as Magnus stood up and smiled at the sight of him, walking towards him and wrapping him in a hug. Tears began to pour from Alec's eyes as he whispered, "I missed you so much. Are you okay?"

"It's fine, sweetheart, everything's okay," Magnus whispered back. Something in the tone of his voice caught Alec's attention, and he pulled back, noticing for the first time that the air around the warlock was hazy, like it was when there was an exceptionally powerful glamour, usually one from a demon.

Before he could process the thought, though, he felt a sharp pain in his stomach as he was stabbed. He fell down, looking up at Magnus. But it wasn't Magnus. Tendrils of what looked like smoke replaced the fingers, arms, up until the figure was just a black silhouette, holding a knife dripping with blood. _That's my blood_, Alec realized weakly.

Of course. It was an Eidolon demon.

A voice whispered in his ear, taken straight from his nightmares. "How does it feel, Lightwood? You're going to bleed out, dying slowly and painfully. Tell me how it feels, because I'm not lucky enough to get to watch." Jonathan Morgenstern laughed as Alec flinched away. "Did you like the Eidolon? Very real, wasn't it? We had help from your warlock, of course. Just some blood and the demon makes an exceptional disguise, don't you think?"

Alec paled even more, all the blood draining from his face. His voice was small as he asked, "What did you do to him?"

"Nothing you won't soon find out," Jonathan mocked, grinning like a kid at Christmas. "Goodbye, Alexander."

Alec couldn't form words, couldn't move, couldn't breathe; the pain he barely registered as his body went into shock. And he felt so tired anyway, so why didn't he just go to sleep? It was right there, at the edge of his consciousness, enticing him, and he followed it into the darkness.

* * *

Isabelle noticed the look on her brother's face when he was leaving. Alec was having a hard time dealing with everything, and it showed; he'd always been a terrible liar, and that applied to poker faces, his attempts at masks of indifference. He was like an open book sometimes, giving away everything on his mind with a single look.

She knew how he felt, or she supposed he did: ousted, hopeless, and lonely most of all. No one had been able to really find solace in anyone else with everything going on lately. Everyone was overwhelmed, and none of the Shadowhunters were really showing any signs of normalcy – although, she'd noticed that the people less connected with the kidnappings, with Magnus, with Luke, were handling it better, but not perfectly. There was still Jonathan to factor into the equation. Everyone knew about him; everyone was connected to him, especially now that he'd come back, supposedly from the dead, and was showing signs of power beyond that of any normal human being or Shadowhunter – hell, he'd even overcome a warlock without any weapons, using the same skills that Magnus had, but simply at a higher level. Isabelle didn't see how it made any sense, because Jonathan had been around for seventeen, eighteen years, while Magnus had been around for almost nine hundred. Jonathan had become far more powerful than anyone had any right to be.

Isabelle shook hear head to clear her head. She'd tried staying at Clary's and watching TV to distract herself from these thoughts, but they just kept coming back. She left then, figuring that she'd go spend the night with Alec. Simon wasn't answering her texts – homework, she figured – so she thought that if she went to spend some time that she could've spent being moody with her moody brother, together they might not be as moody as they were when they were apart.

She arrived at the apartment in Brooklyn and buzzed to be let up, shivering in a cold fall breeze. It was starting to feel colder and colder every day, and she couldn't help but think how appropriate it was compared to the situation at hand.

After waiting a few minutes, she buzzed again. And again. And again, with no response. Isabelle dug out her stele and made a simple unlocking rune on the door, going in without any more fuss. She did the same at the door to the flat, knocking first. With no response, she entered to a darkened front room.

_Huh. Maybe he didn't come home. Or he's asleep already._

She reconsidered, however, when she turned on the lights and saw the blood. It was everywhere: on the floor, on the walls, thickening the further she walked from the door. She opened the door to the bedroom, whip at the ready and her hand reaching for a seraph blade when she gasped. Her brother was just a dark form on the ground, lying in a pool of blood, most of it still wet.

Isabelle dropped to the floor beside her brother, whipping out her stele and ripping his shirt where it was stained the darkest. She winced at the sight of his wound. It was deep, and when she'd taken off the cloth on top of it, blood started gushing out of it again. She applied a few quick _iratzes _at the stab wound and by his heart. Her hands were covered in blood, streaks of it covering her clothes, and some of it rubbing off on her cell phone as she called her mother. She started crying when she heard the raspy breathing coming from Alec's throat, and did everything she could. She applied pressure to it, putting down strips of fabric from his and her clothes, but it bled profusely, refusing to stop simply because of her attempts at preventing it from bleeding.

When there was nothing else to do but wait, Isabelle did something she hadn't done since she was little: she prayed. She asked God for her brother back, or that he take her instead, but God didn't seem to be listening as blood escaped from her brother's body, leaving him progressively weaker and weaker.

**Fly Away Dreams - Yes, I'm sorry to say that it is still torture our beloved boys time. I'm sorry you got so upset on a snow day, and no, the next book is DEFINITELY not going to be rainbows and unicorns and sunshine for them - especially with Camille and Will coming up in conversation. Although I like that they're on a romantic vacation, lol! I hope you're not too mad at me for this one! *ducks, hiding face from possible harm***

**Bookworm24601 - I'm pretty sure I don't have it in me to end it like Body and Soul... though I do like writing Jonathan for some reason. I... (like is not the word I'm going for here, but it's as close as I can get) like writing my Jonathan, how twisted he is and all, you know? And an Eidolon demon was introduced to us a couple times in Cassie's two series. The shapechanger demon is known as an Eidolon, examples being the first demon at Pandemonium in City of Bones and Brother Jeremiah talking to Tessa in Clockwork Angel.**

**absolutelywonderful - Yeah, we bash on him, but it all works out in the end... sometimes. I'm glad you like my screen name, lol - I like yours too :D**

**AverageDreamer - I giggled when I read your review. I'm sorry, my mind is in the gutter. Shame on me. You're so sweet, being all helpful and stuff! You're like, my FFN best friend! I really hope you like this chapter - we can talk more about it later *wink wink***

**DisturbingEmily - We won't know much about his status for a little bit... *evil grin* Thanks for the review!**

**Kitty Bane - Jonathan is a terrible person, yes... I was thinking about that while I was working with the plot, like if the demon blood is burning out his humanity, at one point won't he be half demon, half human? (like a warlock) and then won't he become even more demon-y? BTW! I love your screen name, it made my day lol :D**

**LevithanLover - I'm glad you like it! Thank you for reviewing both chapters - you are such a sweetheart! - and I'm sorry it depressed you. I can't promise anything right now. You'll just have to trust that our boys and their friends know what they're doing.**

**A for Angel - FINALLY! SOMEONE CUSSING ME OUT! I LOVE GETTING REVIEWS LIKE THIS! :D Sorry, it's just, I love getting strong emotions out of my readers with my writing, no matter what emotions they are. Anger, hate, bloodlust towards me for being so mean... Heh heh heh. I hope you like the update!**

** Once again, thanks so much to everyone who read/reviewed! Care to do it again? Reviews are especially loved this chapter - I entered into a writing contest and am super anxious. I haven't heard back from them but my friend did... I'm very sad as to what that might mean, and my ego certainly took a hit. I put everything I had into this chapter, so I really hope it's up to your guys' standards!**


	8. 8

"_Do you think he's going to wake up? It's been three days now."_

"_You have to give him time. That wound was pretty much fatal. He's lucky to have lasted this long."_

"_A coma is lucky?"_

"_Compared to what it could've been, yeah." A pause. "Your kind seems to die pretty easily, don't you?"_

"_Haven't you heard that it's bad luck to talk about death in a sickroom?"_

If he could have, Alec would have chuckled at that, remembering when he'd said the same when Clary had come to the Institute.

It hurt. He ached all over, and whenever he breathed there were sharp pains in his stomach. That paired with his pounding head made it hard to focus, but he could make out those words. He hated it – especially the fact that he'd become somewhat conscious. The dreams he'd been thrown into were bliss, filled with his happiest memories. They were from times with Max, Jace, Isabelle – but mostly with Magnus. Those green-gold cat eyes peering out from long dark lashes, the soft black hair like silk that would tangle in his hands, the heat radiating off the golden skin that kept him warm, the bright colors always present, whether in the makeup or the clothes – everything that had to do with Magnus. Every moment he could remember became so clear, so detailed, and Alec held on to them for dear life. The recently acquired consciousness was pushing them away, the thoughts slipping through his fingers as he woke up.

For a few minutes, he just laid there, trying to get up the strength to open his eyes. He concentrated on his breathing, thankful for the reminder of life in each inhalation. And at the sound of clicking heels, he assumed Izzy was pacing. It was typical for his sister only when something was bad – really bad.

His eyes fluttered, and he squeezed them shut at the faint exposure to light. He groaned and shifted, stopping the heels in their tracks. There was a momentary pause, and they rushed closer to him, a warm hand on his cold one. When he could finally open his eyes fully, he saw his sister's brown ones, full of concern and relief and tears. She let them fall down her face and wrapped him in a tight hug, shaking her head and blubbering without letting go of him. Alec weakly wrapped his arms around his sister, trying to convey his relief at simply being alive. He knew how she felt, especially now: they didn't want to have to let go.

Someone coughed behind her, and she pulled away reluctantly, stepping behind a strangely familiar man. Alec had seen him before; Magnus knew him. Markus, maybe?

"You're awake then. That's good, I suppose," he said, towering over Alec. He seemed unnaturally tall, just like Magnus. Were all warlocks so tall? He'd always considered himself tall, towering over most of his own family, but spending so much time with Magnus and his friends had made him feel like he had more of an average height.

Alec managed a small nod, and rasped, "What happened?"

Isabelle flinched, and with a squeal she grabbed the glass of water on the table beside her and handed it to her brother. She sat down next to him, fussing with her hair and stumbling over the words. "Well, I figured I'd go see how you were after you left Luke's, so I went to the apartment, but it was all dark. I figured you might've gone to sleep already, but you didn't look tired so much as upset, sad, y'know? Well, I turned on the lights and there was blood smeared on the floor and at the end you were lying there in a pool of it." She stopped for a moment when her voice broke, but kept going. "You're usually colder than us, but you were like ice then, Alec, and I was so scared that I was going to lose another brother. You barely made it, and we had no idea what happened. You've been out for about three days, Alec."

He looked at her, really looked at her, and noticed that she wasn't wearing any makeup anymore. It wasn't there to be messed up. And her hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail – and not one that was purposely messy, but one that only had the function of keeping it out of her face. It made him see that it wasn't just him that was suffering, but everyone around him as well.

"I'm sorry, Izzy. I didn't mean to make you worry," Alec told her, his voice better once he took a drink of water.

Isabelle shook her head. "I know that. But who did this to you?"

Alec's tone turned bitter. "Can't you guess?"

"Jonathan Morgenstern again?" the warlock asked. Alec and Isabelle nodded in unison, and he rolled his eyes. "Honestly, can't you keep track of your own kind? Find him and deal with it yourself. Shadowhunters," he muttered, shaking his head.

Isabelle whipped around, her hair flying, her eyes glaring murderously and her voice almost out in the open and dripping with venom. Alec spoke up first.

"He's like you."

Markus stopped, not turning around but definitely interested. "What was that?"

"Jonathan. He's got demon blood, Greater Demon blood."

"But that's impossible," Markus whispered. "That would mean –"

"It's burning out his humanity, giving him an edge over everyone. He must be at least half demon now, because he's like you. He's got magic, and he's had it figured out for a while now." Alec explained.

Markus waved his hand dismissively. "Why should we take your word for it?" His words were mocking, but his voice was strained, tight, as if he was desperate to have Alec say that Jonathan was just another Shadowhunter.

Alec's voice stayed quiet. "He took Magnus."

Markus raised his eyebrows at that, but said nothing, opening the opportunity for an explanation. Isabelle jumped in when Alec didn't respond. "They were throwing magic at each other, and he backed Magnus into a corner. He just snapped his fingers and they both disappeared."

Markus said nothing else, shocked into silence, and Isabelle and Alec were silent as well. There were no words anymore.

* * *

Simon walked out the front doors of St. Xavier's, his backpack slung over one shoulder and mercifully light. He'd stayed late to practice with Matt, Kirk, and Eric; they'd been able to use the band room at school instead of Eric's garage.

He walked home, a prickling sensation running down his spine. Something was going to happen soon, he just didn't know what.

Later that night, he was on the computer when someone knocked on the door. Simon walked to the door, opening it hesitantly. In the doorway stood a girl that looked only a few years older than him. At first glance, she was completely normal: blond curls, bright green eyes, street clothes. He just didn't know who she was.

Then she smiled, and her sharp teeth glittered like his did when he couldn't control them. He noticed her skin's translucent pallor, and her graceful air, lithe and catlike even when she stood still.

"Simon Lewis, if I'm correct?" She had a mixed accent; a little bit French, maybe Russian or German from the rough tone in her voice, but the British accent was more pronounced. It was definitely not something you heard in New York every day.

Simon stood a little straighter, telling her, "Yes. What do you want?"

She laughed. It sounded soft and compelling, but there was a trace of hysteria underneath. "Of course, how rude of me. I am Camille Belcourt. Nice to meet you, Simon Lewis." She held out her hand.

He didn't shake her hand. She withdrew hers with a trace of disdain, continuing. "You have probably heard of me. I lead the coven in this city."

"I thought Raphael led them."

"In my stead," she added. "I had to attend to some business in Europe. He is of no use to me now."

Simon grimaced. "What does that mean?"

The smile Camille had on her face matched her cheerful tone, but the words didn't fit, chilling him. "You won't have to worry about him anymore."

There was a moment of silence before Camille spoke again.

"Now, I've been meaning to speak to you for quite some time now. Word travels, Daylighter," she told him, using his newly acquired title, her tone making Simon shiver. "You were in Idris during the battle against Valentine, I believe?"

Simon nodded.

"Your condition is interesting. Not completely unheard of, mind you, but interesting nonetheless. Some of our kind has, ah, realized the risk of leaving you alive. You are a hot commodity, as they say."

"Stop with all the polite bullshit. Why did you come here?"

Camille's eyes narrowed, but the smile didn't as much as falter. Her voice, now, was like honey over shards of ice. "I came to see how much of a threat you are. Is _that_ concise enough for you to understand?"

Simon's stomach twisted, but he nodded, aware of the Mark on his forehead. "And what do you think?"

"That the Mark you bear will bring us all trouble," Camille told him.

Simon ran his fingers through his hair, pushing it back so she could see the full Mark. "It wasn't my idea, but I'm sure it's better than getting killed."

"I wouldn't be so sure. Shadowhunters are never the most trustworthy in this world," she intoned. "Be careful who you trust, Simon Lewis. You might not be worth the risk of killing, but we know others who aren't so protected as you are." She tuned and started walking away, calling over her shoulder, "Good night, Simon Lewis."

Camille walked away slowly, but Simon didn't bother to watch her go. He closed the door, locking each lock and leaning against it, sliding down until he was sitting. His eyes closed. He knew it was silly and childish to do something like this, something he hadn't done since he'd gotten over being scared of storms. He knew the locks wouldn't keep her away, and a light laugh in the distance reminded him all the more, but the superficial comfort he'd always gotten from it flooded through him. Camille Belcourt scared him more than anyone he'd ever met, and she'd have seemed perfectly sweet in any other situation. He'd gone up against Valentine, Raphael, and an army of demons, and the fear he'd had of all of them put together was nothing to rival his fear for Camille. She seemed far more dangerous than anyone would give her credit for.

He desperately hoped he was wrong.

* * *

Clary had locked herself in her room, only allowing Isabelle in, and that was only in the case of food. Clary didn't eat it, but she knew it helped Isabelle feel useful. Sometimes, when Isabelle set down the food and sat next to her, Clary would just sit there with her in companionable silence. Other times she'd fling herself at her friend, sobbing with abandon, wishing she could do so with her mother. Isabelle seemed to understand, even playing with Clary's hair sometimes. It felt so good to be hugged, especially by someone who would understand. Her mother was in almost the same state as she was, probably worse than Clary had seen. Maryse was usually with her, according to Isabelle.

Clary didn't like that. With Luke gone, she and Jocelyn should be finding comfort in each other, not in the Lightwood girls. But it didn't seem possible for her to move to her mom, to get up off the bed, to open the door and walk down the hall, to go sit next to her mother. Clary was already perpetually exhausted. She wasn't even drawing anymore. She would just hold her sketchbook, sometimes flipping through it, sometimes leaving it closed. She let Isabelle see it, but they didn't talk much.

She picked up the leather bound book again, flipping through the pencil sketches, the scribbled notes, the marks of a smudgy eraser or a pen running out of ink on the sides of the pages.

Something caught her attention this time, though. The runes she had drawn beside her picture of Jace, and the coffee cup. The ones that let her pictures become real.

Clary gazed at them for a moment, tracing the broad strokes in them and the thin lines that connected them when something clicked in her head. She saw a rune in front of her, as clear as it would be in front of her. She flipped to a new page, scrambling for a pencil, jotting it down.

Pulling her hand back from it, she studied the rune more closely. It looked like an ornate mirror, in a simple oval with looping lines designing the edges.

It reminded her of Snow White, of the magic mirror she'd always found so interesting when Jocelyn would read the story to her as a little girl.

Jocelyn. She thought of her mother, and was startled when she heard a splash from her bathroom.

Clary jumped up, walking briskly to see that everything was mostly in order. The only thing that had changed was the sink, now filled almost to the brim with water.

And reflecting an image of her mother, half asleep, mumbling in her sleep.

It looked so real. Clary reached out to touch it, almost as an involuntary action, but as she touched the water's surface, the image disappeared, the water draining down the sink's pipes.

Clary sat down on her bed, her sketchbook beside her and open to the rune she'd just drawn.

_What was that?_

**Bookworm24601 - It's not fair. Sorry hon, but that's the point... don't hate me?**

**dragonfairy16 - I hope your hair survived. Because I just updated. :D**

**freefall - thank you for the compliment! I'd like to think I'm awesome... yeah, that's a nice thought. Thank you!**

**Fly Away Dreams - OH MY GOSH. WHY DO YOU KEEP HAVING GOOD DAYS WHEN I UPDATE? It's not fair. I'm so sad for you. But it's alright for now, but some heavy stuff is coming soon. And I'm glad you've got something up your sleeve. I'm already in love with your story :)**

**DisturbingEmily - I never said I wasn't mean. And I never said I was killing them. Silly! I couldn't do that morally. And I couldn't go up against all the fangirls, because I am one. And since I'm the closest to myself, I'd be the first one to get to me. And that would make it a suicide. And I don't want that to go down.**

**Kitty Bane - I know! I like to think of him as my best friend, or an absolutely amazing brother! I tell my mom, my friends, my relatives, and everyone else 'IT'S NOT UNNATURAL!' but they keep using the f-word around me. I hate that word. Fictional (shudder) And you're a warlock? I wish I was. That would be... amazing *awestruck eyes***

**I realize.. that I didn't update last weekend. Do you forgive me? I had so many projects for school that I had to keep up with, along with my normal homework, and my friends dragged me out to Gnomeo and Juliet for English class extra credit (we're doing Romeo and Juliet right now) so I had almost no time to update. And if I did, I used that time to sleep.**

**Forgive and forget? Or not? Either way, leave a review and let me know what you think? Some heavy stuff is about to go down. What's going on here is bigger than our boys think.**


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